Only What You Want to See
by Nova-chan
Summary: Finch loses something...but gains something more. Chapters 5 have been written by the very gracious Seven of Spades!
1. Finch

Behind those sparkling blue eyes lay a plot waiting to emerge. The plan was perfect: three or four spitballs in the backside followed by three or four shrieks of surprise, and the cute new girl would never want to talk to Elliot again. He had measured all the angles, calculated the distance, made four beautiful spitballs, and a fifth, in case of emergency, and found a bendy straw.  
  
Finch sneered. Elliot had been chatting up this girl for at least an hour. They would stand across from Finch's desk, sipping their coffee, and Elliot would say something stupid, and she would laugh.  
  
It was sickening.  
  
Suddenly, the window of opportunity opened! Elliot turned around, probably making his move, or whatever he liked to call it. Finch readied the straw...  
  
"Dennis!" Jack called from his office.  
  
The tension immediately died, and Finch slowly released his breath. "Coming, Jack," he said, half-mockingly.  
  
The secretary walked into Jack's luxurious office and glanced at his boss in anticipation. "What's up, Jack?" he asked, begrudged. "I was kind of busy in there."  
  
"Oh, really?" Jack wondered. "Would this involve spitballs?"  
  
"Maybe...but I did nothing that wasn't crying out for justice!!"  
  
"Well, anyway, Dennis, I have a little assignment I need for you to do for me," Jack said, folding his hands across his knee.  
  
Finch was already halfway out the door. "Sorry, Jack, I'm booked straight through the end of the year....possibly next year too...."  
  
"I guess I'll have to get Elliot to go pick up our new model, then," Jack said, feigning negligence.  
  
"Oh, we shouldn't bother Elliot with such little assignments," Finch replied, nonchalantly, peeking back in the door.  
  
"I'm sure he doesn't mind." Jack shrugged, knowing that he had trapped Finch.  
  
"No, really!! I can handle it Jack."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
**  
  
Caught in a momentary traffic jam, Finch glanced at the directions he had written on a small sheet of notebook paper. The model was meeting him outside of some bank, and he just couldn't place the name of it.  
  
"1st National Bank of Commerce," he read aloud. "Got it."  
  
He drove for a few more blocks, and pulled expertly into a parking space. Not seeing her right away, Dennis turned up the volume on his radio. The news was on his favorite station, so he quickly switched it off.  
  
Subconsciously, he turned on the heater. A light snow had fallen early that morning, and was still littered about the sidewalks, cascading into a chilly winter background for the businessmen and women briskly walking outside.  
  
Deciding that his car wasn't getting warmer anytime soon, and that the model probably wouldn't see him in it anyway, he pulled the key from the ignition and went outside to sit on a bench.  
  
As he sat down, he slid his keys into his pocket, his hand brushing against something in the process. He pulled out a snapshot of himself and his co- workers from last year's New Year's Eve party. Wow!, he said to himself. I thought I'd lost this! I guess I must've washed it in these pants.  
  
Nostalgically, he traced the picture with his eyes. He and Jack stood together in one corner. Elliot had an arm propped on Nina, who was downing something alcoholic, no doubt. A few others that Finch didn't know were dancing and drinking...and then Finch's eyes trailed over to Maya. She had her arms crossed, but she was smiling. She wore a short green dress and matching earrings. Dennis stared at her smile. It was so natural and majestic. How he longed to make that smile appear on her face...  
  
Suddenly, a strong wind picked up, blowing the picture into the street on the other side of his car.  
  
"Man," Dennis grumbled. He sprinted over and bent down to look under the car. The picture was only a few feet away. He reached with his left arm, trying to grab it.  
  
All of a sudden, Finch heard a blaring horn. He snapped to attention, and froze when he saw the two lights headed straight for him.  
  
**  
  
What will happen???? Only I know....and I really don't know yet anyway...^_^ Keep reading!! 


	2. Maya

11111111Only What You Want to See  
  
By NoV  
  
Part 2  
  
**  
  
Maya Gallo sat at her desk, tucked away in her spacious office. She was working (or trying to work) on an article titled, "Mischievous Looks You Give Your Partner." Coming to a dead end in mid-sentence, she began gnawing on the top of her pen, frustrated.  
  
"But, those devilish looks do have the tendency to-what??" she asked aloud, unable to come up with anything.  
  
"Maya?" Jack's voice said over her intercom, causing Maya to jump. "Would you come into my office, please?"  
  
"Sure, Dad," she replied, setting her pen back on her desk beside the paper. Maybe walking around would help blood flow to her head.  
  
She walked past Elliot and Nina, who were conversing while drinking their morning coffee.  
  
"She said she was looking for someone taller," Elliot remarked, bitterly. "I was taller than she was!!"  
  
Rolling her eyes, Maya walked past Finch's empty desk, not giving it a second thought, and into Jack's office. She approached her father, who was intently bent over a sheet of typing paper.  
  
"Dad?" Maya wondered, shaking him from his thoughts.  
  
Jack Gallo looked at his daughter, and then back to the paper. Decidedly, he set the paper down. "So, Maya, how's that new article coming?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, well," she shifted her feet, "it's.....um.....coming....."  
  
"Do you know what I got in the mail today?" Jack queried, showing her the paper he had previously been reading over.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's a complaint about your article in the last issue of Blush," he replied, handing the paper to her.  
  
Maya got a distressed look on her face as she stared at the letter. ".....not up to par with usual Blush standards.....found 28 mistakes.....could have done a better job myself??" Maya demanded, reading sections of the letter aloud. "Who would write a horrible, criticizing letter like this??"  
  
"A. Donaldson from Connecticut," Jack responded. "She doesn't seem to think that you're upholding our standards as well as the rest of the staff."  
  
"And what do you think, Dad?" Maya questioned, a pleading look in her eyes.  
  
"I strongly agree with her," he said, flatly.  
  
"But that's not fair!!" Maya yelled. "I only had half a day to complete that article because you fired Christy! I didn't even have time to read over it!"  
  
"Well, on this next piece, I expect much better, Maya," Jack said, laying down the law for his daughter.  
  
Maya fumed. "Don't worry. This next one will blow your mind!"  
  
"Good," Jack stated. "Now, has Dennis gotten back with Mandy Tchiavski yet?"  
  
"Who?" Maya asked.  
  
"Dennis." Jack waved his hand around, absently. "You know, my little blond secretary? Likes to be sarcastic? He and Elliot.....and Nina.....and everyone else.....are always trying to trick each other?"  
  
"I meant Mandy.....whoever," Maya said, flatly.  
  
"Oh, yes, Mandy Tchiavski," Jack said. "She's a Russian.....or maybe German model that I sent Dennis to pick up. It's been over an hour and a half."  
  
"Knowing Finch, they're probably in a café somewhere, 'talking,'" Maya retorted, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Hopefully, he'll have her here before midnight," Jack muttered. "So, anyway, Maya, if you could-" The phone rang suddenly, interrupting him. "Hold on, Maya......hello? Yes.....yes......what? Oh my god.....yes.....Maya? Could you take the phone for a moment?" Jack stood up, handing the phone to her, and walked over to the window.  
  
"Hello?" Maya wondered, furrowing her eyebrows. "Oh, yes.....uh- huh.....yes......he what?? Oh no.....how terrible....okay, yes.....thank- you......" She hung up the phone. "Dad.....I can't believe it....."  
  
"I know," Jack said. "Now who'll go pick up Mandy??"  
  
**  
  
NoV: Gee, how nice, Jack. Great to know that you care. Anyway, review. ^_^ 


	3. Doctor

Only What You Want to See Part 3  
  
**  
  
NoV: Those last two parts were intensely serious, huh?  
  
Finch: Am I dead?  
  
NoV: Maybe.  
  
Maya: Am I dead?  
  
NoV: ....no!  
  
Maya: Do I love Finch?  
  
NoV: Maybe.....let's find out!  
  
**  
  
Having been outnumbered by her fellow co-workers, Maya found herself in the hospital, laden with a rather large bouquet of daffodils. She had been directed by the secretary at the front desk to a room on the third floor. After her short trip on the elevator, she came to the correct door.  
  
"Okay, from what I know, it was just a simple accident," she reasoned with herself before going inside. "Albeit, a simple accident involving a large vehicle weighing thousands of pounds." She paused just as her hand was about to rap against the door she was staring at. Shaking off a terrible apprehensive feeling, she knocked.  
  
After receiving no answer, she knocked once again, a little harder this time. "Hello? It's Maya Gallo."  
  
Shrugging her shoulders, she slowly opened the door. Inside, the room was plain, as most hospital rooms are. The walls were white, and loosely decorated by a tall mirror and an abstract painting. Adorning the left wall was a TV, the remote attached to it by Velcro. Maya's eyes trailed to a single blue vinyl and wooden chair sitting next to a bed, sheets and pillows off-white. Lying amidst the bed clothes was Finch, white gauze with a slight bloodlike tint wrapped around his brow. A long tube with clear fluid inside ran from a needle in his arm to a pole standing beside the bed. Dennis appeared to be asleep.  
  
Maya felt a pang of guilt for yelling at Finch the previous Friday. It had been a very long, exhausting week, and she had just wanted to go home. Finch had been nagging her about her lime green sweater all day, and when Maya had gotten fed up, she decided to let him know exactly how she felt.  
  
Now as he lay asleep (or perhaps unconscious), Maya felt a strange mixture of sympathy and regret.  
  
She approached his bedside, admiring how soft his hair looked, despite the hell he had gone through. Decidedly, she sat in the chair beside the bed.  
  
"Well, Finch," she began, with an odd gesture. "We all pitched in and bought you some flowers. I'll put them on your window." She gently placed the bouquet on the windowsill. "I'm really sorry that this happened......I know it wasn't my fault or anything.....but I really could be nicer to you.....Dennis, please be okay......" Maya's eyes began to water, as she stared at his unmoving form.  
  
Turning away and toward the painting on the wall, she wiped away a single tear that had threatened to fall. "Oh, god! What am I going to do if he dies??" she cried. "It.....it just wouldn't be the same without him....."  
  
It was then that it occurred to her to find a doctor who could tell her exactly how good Finch's chances were. She was halfway across the room when a soft groan forced her to turn back toward the bed.  
  
"Finch!" she cried, rushing to his side as his face twitched. "Can you hear me? Wake up!" She knelt down beside the bed, placing her hand on his.  
  
Dennis' eye twitched, and then both his eyes opened, not focusing on anything in particular.  
  
"Oh my god, Finch! You had us all worried!" Maya exclaimed, half in relief and half in annoyance. "How did you manage to get hit by a car while waiting for a model?? First my dad had a fit about someone going to pick up the new Russian......or German model, and then he made a big fuss about, 'Oh, I hope Dennis is okay! What'll I ever do without him?' And then he got called away to a meeting that he absolutely couldn't miss, and I had to bring a really big spray of flowers, and I've been worried all this time all for nothing!!" Finch's eyes sparkled a mystical blue color, but didn't glance over at Maya once.  
  
Maya stood up and waved a hand over his face. He didn't blink. "Finch?" she asked, beginning to worry again. "Are you in there?"  
  
"I'm in here, Maya," he replied, without a touch of comedy in his voice. "But I can't see......are my eyes dilated?"  
  
".....I don't think so," she answered him. "They could be, though. Let me go and get a doctor. I'm sure it's just dilation or a temporary trauma. I'll be right back."  
  
Finch grabbed her arm, hindering her from leaving. "Don't leave me, Maya! I'm.....scared."  
  
"I have to go find a doctor so he can tell us what's wrong with your eyes, Finch!" She pried his hand off of her arm, and bristled out of the room.  
  
Spying a tall, thin man dressed in a white lab coat, she chased after him.  
  
"Excuse me?" she wondered, once she had caught him. "I have a question about a patient......my friend, Dennis Finch?"  
  
"Finch?" the doctor asked, turning toward her. His hair was dark brown and growing thin. He had a strong, well-chiseled face, and a goatee. "Let me pull up his chart. Follow me."  
  
Maya nodded in agreement, and walked after the doctor into a small office. There was a stack of brown portfolios on his desk. The doctor walked over to the desk and began to thumb through the files.  
  
When he had found Finch's file, he said, "Ooh, yes. The young man in the car accident this morning, right?" Maya nodded. "There is some bad news. When we took the cat scan....."  
  
**  
  
NoV: Sorry, cliffy, but NoV has much homework and nighttime things to do!! What do you want in chapter four? We aim to please! 


	4. Sight

Only what you want to see Part 4

Hi everyone! This chapter has been tweaked as I have realized the silliness it once contained. Forgive my adolescent confusion and ignorance and I apologize to anyone I might have yelled at trying to defend it.

"These is a scan of a normal functioning brain," the doctor explained to Maya, showing her images on a computer screen. "Now this is a simulation of the same lobe in Mr. Finch's brain. See this part here?" He pointed to a part of the scan where the brain appeared bloated. "This lobe was apparently impacted by the accident and has swollen."

"But, what does that mean?" Maya asked, feeling a lump in her throat, and tears welling in her eyes.

"Well, unfortunately, that particular part of the brain is the central control center for sight," the doctor said, sighing.

Maya took in a short breath. "But...will it...is it going to be permanent?"

"Most likely, yes," he said, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

The doctor placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "Do you need me to go and tell him the bad news, Miss?" he asked, kindly.

Maya sniffled and sat up. "No," she whispered. "No, I think he'll take it better if I tell him." She stood up, shaking the doctor's hand. "Thank you for all that you've done."

He smiled. "I only wish I could've done more."

After quickly grabbing a bag of M&Ms from the snack machine (the poor girl had missed her lunch break), Maya was ready to face Finch again. Conscientiously knocking on his door, she went inside.

He lay in the same spot, fumbling around the night stand for something.

"Finch?" Maya wondered. "It's...it's Maya again..." Receiving no response, she asked, "What are you looking for?"

"Reader's Digest," he said, flatly. "I'm trying to find the 'call nurse' button."

"What do you need with the nurse?"

"Besides hot, livid sex?" he said, shooting a grin in her general direction. "I have to find out about this temporary blindness."

"Oh, oh!" Maya said, understandably. "That's okay. I've already talked to the doctor about it." She walked over and sat down in the chair on the other side of the bed. She glanced at the flowers on the window in the process.

"What did he say?" Finch asked, turned away from Maya and speaking to the opposite wall.

"Well..." Maya began. Finch, realizing she had moved, turned toward her. "He told me that the part of your brain that controls sight is...well...it's swollen..." she explained.

"Oh, is that it?" Finch said with a laugh. "How long will it take to fix it?"

"That's just it, Finch," Maya said, her voice deadly serious. "They can't."

"Oh, okay. So, it's one of those things that clears up in about a week?"

"I wish it was, Finch," she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. "I really do."

A light flickered across his eyes. "...but...is it...will I be blind forever?"

Maya swallowed hard, and then nodded. Then, remembering that Finch wouldn't know that she was nodding said, "The doctor thinks that you will." She couldn't let him know, but every single word made her want to die for having to say it. She would rather die herself than to let Finch feel this terrible burden.

Dennis didn't speak for a long time. He lay there, pondering and running the top of the sheets through his forefinger and thumb. Finally, he said. "So that's it? My life is over...there's nothing left for me but to sit at home and waste away..."

Maya stood um and placed her hand on his arm. "Finch, that's not true...you can still do everything you did before!"

"No, I can't, Maya," he retorted. "I can't drive, I can't dance, I can't read, I can't write, I can't work-"

"You can still work, Dennis," she urged.

He felt his heart flutter when she called him Dennis. She called him that so rarely...and when she did, it was always when she cared.

"I know that my dad can still use you!" she continued. "It's going to be very hard and difficult to adjust to, but I'll help you. Will you at least try?"

Slowly, Dennis nodded. "Okay," he whispered.


	5. Adaptation

A/N: Hi! I just felt it would be so tragic for such a cool story to be left unfinished, so whether you R and R or not, I plan to write and write until it gets a decent ending. For Nova-chan's sake, though, please review! And thanks again to Nova-chan for giving me the opportunity to write this, and helping me out with my writing flaws. You rock:) - _Seven of Spades_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 5: Adaptation**

Maya accompanied Dennis, whose eyes were concealed behind a thick pair of shades, as he walked into the Blush office to a round of applause. He dropped his cane, eager to find the rest of the gang with his bare hands. They soon found something particularly large, fleshy and warm.

"Aack!" Maya yelled. "Get your hands off my boobs, Finch!"

"Oopsies. Well, they are kinda hard to miss." He promptly dropped his hands, grinning mischievously as Maya stepped back, picked up his cane and led him to Jack's office. "Hee, I've always wanted to do that."

"Still the same old Finch, eh?" came a male voice to his right.

He followed the source of the sound and reached his arm forward, raising it slightly to feel something hard and round with his hand. "I knew it was you, Elliot," he laughed.

Maya's hands continued to guide him to a seat in Jack's office. He'd never noticed how soft they were until now. That moment, he silently wished that he could match the sweet face to her voice again, comforting himself with knowing that he would always remember that New Year's Eve picture.

"Hello, Dennis."

"Nice to _see_ you, Jack," he said sarcastically, adjusting the bandage on his head.

"Now," came Jack's familiar gravelly but warm voice, "I know your handicap may hinder you when doing your job, but we'd be happy to have you stick around."

_Let's see: answering calls, making calls, taking down messages, arranging schedules, typing, printing, stapling, oh, SHIT!_ Dennis didn't think he could handle doing any of his clerical tasks now that he'd lost his eyesight. "You'd have to pay for my Braille lessons and convert all documents and my keyboard to Braille. I think it'd cost much less to hire someone else."

"What's it been, Dennis? Fifteen years?"

"About that long." He was getting more and more depressed by the minute. _Fifteen years as a secretary._

"I can't just make you leave Blush after all these years! Plus, I'm not about to get dragged into court again for firing a handicapped person," Jack scoffed.

"There really was no reason to fire Alexis like that, though Dad," Maya insisted.

"Who hires a _deaf_ girl to take dictation?"

"Nevertheless, Dad, Finch does have a point. It would be more cost-effective to hire someone new," came Maya's voice from the back of the room. She was right, yes, but Dennis hated hearing it come from her of all people. "But we could hire someone else, and have Dennis take care of answering phones."

"Hey, sure," Jack replied. "We'll buy a headset and an in-office intercom so you don't have to write anything down. What do you say, Dennis?"

"Um..."

"You don't have to worry about a salary cut."

_Good enough._ "Less work for the same pay? Sounds good to me. I'll do it."

As soon as he felt his way out of Jack's office with his cane, he detected the strong scent of tequila from in front of him. "Nina, is that you?"

A pair of skinny arms suddenly squeezing his frail body signified the affirmative. "Thank God you're alright, Finch!"

Finch tried prying the woman off of him. "Nina, please, you're smothering me with the smell of alcohol...and what do you mean 'alright'? I have to quit the Traffic Academy and the Future Magicians of America! I won't get to watch cat shows anymore! And did I mention that I'm blind? Jesus. Got anymore tequila?" As soon as he felt someone wrapping his free hand around a half-full shot glass, he downed the drink. "Thanks. Man, that's a strong one!"

"Tastes the same to me," Nina remarked, staring into her own glass. "Anyway, I'm just glad you're still alive. _Blush _wouldn't be the same without you."

"I know," he jokingly replied in the direction of her voice. "You guys would be lost without my savvy wit and great taste in music. But thanks, Nina."

Someone took the glass out of his hand and helped him out the office door. "So," he heard Maya say, "is there anyone to take care of you now?"

"I live alone, Maya, you know that."

"Right. Look -- er, _listen,_ -- you can come live with me until we sort your situation out."

His grasp on the walking cane in his hand tightened. "It's okay, I'll just call my mom and sit around until she arrives. That is, if she doesn't die of a heart attack first. I doubt she'll be pleased to find that the son who she once thought was gay is now blind."

"No, Finch," she insisted, "I can't let you go home by yourself. We'll get a few of your things and you can stay in my spare bedroom."

He smiled at nothing in particular. "Will you let all my porcelain cats come live with you too?"

Maya laughed as she opened her car door and helped Dennis into the front seat. "We'll worry about your porcelain cats later."

-o-

Dennis emerged from the car wearing a knapsack and holding an equally large canvas bag and his cane in one hand. He flinched a little at the feel of someone taking his free hand and made a sort of squeak he wished he could take back.

"Relax, Finch," Maya said. "Just let me show you to your room."

She hoped he wouldn't notice that she was starting to get a funny sensation just by holding his hand. _What is with me today?_

Stepping in, Dennis detected the scent of polished wood mingling with tea leaves. He could visualize in his head what her apartment would have looked like -- probably decked out in earthy tones, like maroon and dark green, and it would make you feel right at home. Just like Maya.

Once they'd reached his bedroom, she began to unpack his things for him, one particular item catching her eye as she unzipped the canvas bag. "You have a _blow-dryer,_ Finch?"

"Well, do you think my hair gets all smooth and shiny on its own?"

She giggled and continued unpacking, now handling folded pajamas in the different colors of the rainbow. She examined one of them more closely. It was purple, with the word

"Monday" embroidered on the sleeve. "Oh my God," she laughed, "Days-of-the-Week pajamas?"

"Hey, I haven't worn those for many, many...days," he replied. "My mom gave them to me for Christmas."

"Huh. Don't tell me you have matching boxers, too?"

He hugged his knapsack closer to his chest. "What gave you _that_ idea?" he said a little too defensively.

After unpacking the last set of pajamas, she turned around to see him sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes still hidden behind shades. She took them off for him, momentarily stunned by his eyes. They were a hypnotizing turquoise color -- they would catch her off guard every once in a while through the years they'd been working together, but never like _this_. Sadly, though, his eyes were completely vacant of emotion, no longer possessing the mischievous gleam they once bore. He blinked repeatedly, unaware of his surroundings or the fact that

Maya just stood there staring transfixed at him.

Sadly, though, his eyes were completely vacant of emotion, no longer possessing the mischievous gleam they once bore. He held on to his knapsack in an innocent, childlike way, so unlike the regular Dennis Finch. He was tragic and endearing at the same time, making her feel sorry for him, and yet so very drawn to this new dimension of his character.

"M-Maya, are you there?" he called out. "I think some creep just stole my shades."

His voice jerked her out of her stupor. "Oh, your shades are with me. I'll just set them down on the desk."

"Oh. Thanks," he mumbled with a touch of distrust in his voice.

"So," she said, clasping her hands, "is there anything else I can do for you?"

He grinned at where he believed Maya was. "Give me a bubble bath?"

"Never mind," she sighed, exasperated. "Good night, Finch."

"Wait," he called, "what about dinner?"

Finch's persistence never ceased to irritate her. "Hey, quit it."

"No, seriously. I haven't eaten in eight hours."

"...Oh." Her cheeks turned pink, unbeknownst to him.

"However, if you'd like, we could enjoy a candle-lit dinner followed by naughty time," Dennis suggested with a diabolically raised eyebrow.

"I'm just going to chalk that up to exhaustion. I'll have your dinner ready in an hour," Maya said, leaving Dennis in her spare room.

A few minutes (and a bump acquired from hitting the wall) later, Dennis was on the couch facing the TV, which, at the moment, was showing a re-run of _Frasier. _As she set down the plates, Maya watched him sadly while he tried to enjoy the sitcom without his sense of sight.

"The pasta smells great! Hurry up in there, Aunt Jemima, I'm starving!"

She was amazed -- people could hardly smell food cooking from all the way in the living room. "It'll be done in a sec."

She heard tapping sounds getting louder and louder, prompting her to look around and see him using his cane to find his way to the dinner table on his own. Overcome with sympathy, she rushed over to help him into his seat. "Don't try to be a hero, Dennis, it's only been a week since the accident."

He stood up and followed the sound of her footsteps. "Come on, Maya, just a taste?" he pleaded.

"Oh, all right," she relented, ladling a dollop of sauce into his open mouth. "Careful, it's hot."

"That's delicious -- might want to add just a one more basil leaf, though. And don't throw herbs in whole, the taste is maximized if you chop them up first. There's just enough olive oil in here, and the plum tomatoes? _Excellente._ The overall texture of the sauce is just perfect."

"Well, thanks. Do you restaurant-hop in your spare time, Finch?" she asked, adding in a half-tablespoon of chopped basil.

"Actually, no, my sense of taste just got better all of a sudden. I think it might've been a roast beef sandwich I ate at the hospital."

_Weird,_ she thought as she tried the marinara sauce. "Hey, it does taste better now!"

"I told you. Let me kiss the cook?" He puckered his lips and closed his eyes.

"Just so you know, Finch, I am rolling my eyes at you right now."

Soon enough, two plates of linguine and two glasses of white wine were set down on the table -- Maya's favorite dinner to prepare. Just as she was lifting a forkful of pasta to her mouth, she saw him feeling around the table for his fork and then holding it shakily to try to twirl the pasta around it.

"Here, let me help you," she said, gently taking the fork from his hand. "Open wide."

A little hesitant at first, Dennis finally obliged, feeling Maya's hand under his chin as she fed him the pasta. "Mmm, thank you Mommy."

He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he heard her laughter. He hated that she had to see him in such a helpless state. "Jesus, Maya, I can do it myself."

"No, it's fine," she laughed, clearly enjoying this more than she wanted him to know. Dennis was oddly endearing this way.

"Well, I don't want to be treated like a kid forever," he said defensively.

"Alright, alright," she relented, getting up and moving behind him. "It's this way." She took his hand, her palm touching his knuckles and her fingers over his, and helped him handle the fork properly. His hand was shaking at her touch. "Then you twist it -- yup -- and there you go."

She figured they had a long night ahead of them, but Maya didn't mind at all.

-o-

Before retiring to her own bedroom, Maya decided to check on Dennis one last time. She opened the door to see him lying awkwardly on his bed, fingers interlaced, staring at the ceiling hoping to finally fall asleep. Naturally, he didn't notice the light streaming in from the open doorway. She moved silently towards the large cabinet in the room, pulled out a blanket, and walked towards him.

"Hey, Finch."

"Huh? Oh, hey. Didn't see you there...obviously." He was still quite resentful that fate had decided to pull the rug out from under him, like it had up and decided to just shut off the light and force him to wade through the rest of life in the dark. _As if I didn't hate life enough already. Dead-end job, no one to accompany me at home except my cats, and don't even get me started on girls. And then I have to lose the one sense most important to me._

Maya unfolded the blanket and draped it over him so he was covered from the neck below. "You looked kind of cold."

"Well, I'm kind of not used to this. But, thanks."

"Good night, Dennis."

He smiled. "Good night, Clara Barton," he replied to the sound of retreating footsteps.

_Okay, so maybe fate doesn't hate me entirely._ If anything, Dennis was thankful that he had such supportive friends, Maya especially. God bless her, still willing to help him out after all the snide remarks and nasty pranks he'd pulled on her over the years.


End file.
